


as the blood pours down your shoulder

by cesellia



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, F/F, Guilt, Pre-Canon, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, the good blood is stealing the jobs of hundreds of therapists in yharnam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:53:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28796460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cesellia/pseuds/cesellia
Summary: The clockwork of the tower rings a painful hymn of the ocean inside her head, and Maria could have been forgiven for not noticing the patient who had hidden herself beyond the shelves of books, wishing to remind her of the intoxication one could receive from a Blood Saint.
Relationships: Adeline/Maria (Bloodborne)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	as the blood pours down your shoulder

**Author's Note:**

> titled taken from purity ring's vehemence

On the common night, when the moon hung large in the sky and shimmered its reflection across the sea, Maria was able to withstand the cries born from incomprehensible pain and carry on with her work — soothing the shaking patients and whispering sweet words she knew to be false.

But the corpse was singing to her tonight, singing of malice and Maria’s own bloodthirsty desires that she tried so desperately to forget. It bled into her ears and left her steady hands to begin tremoring.

“Lady Maria,” a patient said, voice unstable and hoarse from the most recent fit of screaming. “Are you alright?”

Staring down at her hands, she could still see Kos's blood — oozing and writhing in that inhumane colour that was etched in her memory, the echoing voice repeating inside her head. _You did this. You did this. Do you not expect me to make you atone for your sins?_

Maria did not need Kos to atone her sins. Her beloved Rakuyo was rusting away at the bottom of a dark well in the Fishing Hamlet, a place she swore to never step foot in again. Gehrman was now long gone from her life — forgotten about her, she hoped. She had been his excellent pupil, but there were certain to be far greater ones to succeed her in her disappearance. She cared for the patients residing in the Research Hall, soothing their neverending pain by physical touch that they would have forgotten about entirely if it had not been for her.

_That is not enough, girl,_ the voice still echoed inside her head. _You are foolish to believe that will be enough for atonement._

“Lady Maria?” the patient tugged on her sleeve.

Maria’s eyes lifted to look at the patient’s greying ones. They had only begun the injections three weeks prior, but their eyes had already gone blind, and it would not be long before their mind followed suit.

“A storm is approaching,” she said. There was not a cloud in the sky that night. “I must see to it that there are no patients outside. I will send someone to bring you to your chamber.”

They nodded their head, absurdly believing her. They all did. She had spoken words so clearly feigned hundreds of times, but they never once questioned her. With any other caretaker or doctor, they would hiss and throw fits whenever bad news was given to them. But they trusted her. Crying on the floor when they were most likely to attack, they cuddled and untensed against her, identifying her by her familiar floral scent. Idiotically, they trusted her.

Maria slipped out of the surgical room as quick and quietly as she could. Travelling through the Research Hall, at night especially, was a vexation. Scholars stood watch around the premise to ensure no wandering beast found the inhabitants to be its prey, and the patients could more easily slip through the guards to aimlessly walk through the corridors, causing a mess they were not aware of. Watching them struggling to walk pained her enough, but hearing their voices calling out her name brought a sickness to her stomach that threatened to swallow her body whole.

_I presume that is what you would want, isn’t it?_ she mused. Of course, when she purposefully tried to talk to the god, she received no response.

The Astral Clocktower stood ethereally at night. She had escorted a vast amount of people seeking their _treatment_ , and each and every one of them fell still and gawked at the tower, pointing towards it and asking _could I go up there one day?_

The answer was always no. It was not that Maria did not want to show her patients and colleagues what she possessed up there, but when she became the tower’s master, it became the only place where she could have silence. Silence from the patients’ endless moaning; silence from the ocean wanting to drown her; silence from Mother Kos’ wrath.

_It is not that easy. I will follow you wherever you go._

“I know you will,” Maria replied aloud as she tread up the wooden and creaking stairs. “But you are one of mercy. Even for a sinner like myself, you can show mercy. That is what the books say.”

Silence fell after she stepped on to that final step. The incense glowed purple from their spots on the walls; the clockwork machines manoeuvred endlessly with a soft hum to accompany their work; a chair sitting in the middle of it all — a side table that held only a letter and a bloodstained knife. It was no Rakuyo, but she would have needed the protection if beasts were to ever attack; however, they had not, and the blood had been her own.

Maria situated herself on the wooden chair, her head hitting the back of it and the muscles in her body untensed. The hum of the machines vibrated up to her skull, and while in any other circumstance it may have felt comforting, it overwhelmed her with the thoughts of turning that blade against her throat. She could hear the ocean, could hear those faint whimpers of an infant. It grew louder, and she just wanted it to _end_.

_Not yet,_ she reminded herself, still taking that small blade into her hands. _You have not earned the right for that._

Her eyes drifted across the room. It did not house many things, but it was those few possessions on bookshelves that made her hold the room dear to her. The books she kept ranged from poetry to history textbooks to romance novels to even the rare copies of Provost Willem’s secret discoveries. To say she stole them would have been an overstatement — she had simply borrowed them and never returned them to their owner.

Maria let her eyelids close as the blade gently caressed the skin of her palm. It was a dull blade when she found it, used by the kitchen staff, but it did not take long for her to sharpen it to perfection and paint the metal with her blood. In a swift, firm motion, she sliced at her palm — starting from her thumb and ending at the base of her ring finger. The blood that flowed from her was as unending as the ocean outside, staining her hands with blood not of the innocent but of her _own_.

She closed her palm, and the pain was intoxicating. The wound stung and the feeling of sharp needles shot up her arm, numbing the wound’s pain for only a second before returning tripled. She wondered if that was what compelled people into becoming Blood Saints when the ends did not seem to justify the torture.

But the pain soon faded as it always did, leaving her palm sticky with dried blood and her body unbearably heavy. That was how it always ended. No joyous intoxication like the hunters experienced every passing night. No release of death. No absence of the ocean. No true silence. Only a heaviness and growing guilt in her chest that travelled up her throat to asphyxiate her without release.

With lungs struggling to obey her command, Maria breathed in to speak, “I must ask, how long do you plan to keep doing this? How long will it be until I reach my atonement and you allowing me to die? Five months? A year? Ten? Twenty? An eternity?” Her body slacked awkwardly in the chair. “Perhaps this _atonement before death_ is only a pretext for the true punishment you have planned for me. I can not be so certain that when I die you will allow me to peacefully pass on to the afterlife, correct?”

The machines shrieked and moaned behind her. As if it was the god’s response, the bells of the clocktower rang — shaking the wooden floors and leaving the books that had been haphazardly placed on the shelves to tip and fall to the ground. Between each chime, the echoes it emitted sang of the ocean, sang of the weeping villagers of the Fishing Hamlet, sang of absolute death.

“Not speaking?” Maria could not help the slight grin pulling on her lips. “Very well. The silence does not bother me—does not bother me _anymore_. Keep silent for all I care, sweet Mother.”

Her muscles ached, and she felt the tug of sleep coming over her. However even as her eyes closed and the remaining parts of her body untensed, she would not sleep. She would sit there, motionless, listening to the machines in prayer that her thoughts would not come to find her. It was always the same. The ocean. The village. The corpse and her undead child. On the rarest of occasions, she thought of Gehrman. For the longest time, she had been his daughter alongside his student, but even with that relationship, he did not go easy on her. Most of her earlier lessons ended with her bruised and covered with scratches. As time went on, it was he who came out of the lessons covered in bruised and scratches — always wearing that side prideful smile.

Her nail tapped on the metal of the knife.

Maria could not imagine that he was proud of her anymore. Abandoning their way of life. Feeling pity for the creatures they were meant to kill. Praying to one of those vile creatures that she would one day be allowed to end it all. But her current efforts were still those that would help the hunters — caring for the patients so that vast amounts of blood could be harvested from their bodies, mind nought of the fact that that, still, brought pain to her chest.

_I thought we were not going to think about that,_ she solemnly reminded herself.

Everything fell still for what could have easily been an eternity. No more thoughts penetrated her mind. She listened to the beating of her heart and how it stammered every so often when she stopped breathing. Sometimes, she was almost certain it stopped altogether prematurely. And then she would gasp for breath and the cycle would continue again.

Her routine was cut short today, however, by the faint distinct sound of footfalls somewhere within that very room. An attendant? Unlikely, Maria had been strict when explaining that no one was to be up there. A beast? Impossible when taking into consideration how they all lack stealth and too driven by blood to stay hidden even after she cut herself.

A hunter appeared to be the most likely of the choices. Greedy, curiosity-driven hunters that are blinded by their need for the truth to ever take in consideration that the secrets kept from them were not without a purpose. Or perhaps it was one of the more malicious of hunters — an executioner. Few people knew her to be a Vileblood, but even the slightest of a rumour would set the executioners off in search to kill them.

She kept her eyes closed and listened to the intruder’s movements. Whoever it was, they were hesitating. They walked on shaking legs and continuously stopped as if debating whether they should approach her or turn away while she slept. But they continued to walk towards her, and with every step, she could hear more clearly their racing heartbeat.

_Not an executioner,_ Maria deducted. _A new hunter, then?_

The floors creaked once more, and they were now standing on a foot away from her. There was great hesitance in them, unsure of their next move. And with that hesitance, Maria took the opportunity to reach forward and grab their wrist to pull them to her, blade resting against their throat.

She was met with not a malicious executioner or a blood-drunk hunter, but a girl. Her hair was silk and brunette; her eyes tinted with the colour of the sun; her chapped lips hanging open in fear. Where Maria’s hand gripped her wrist was wrapped in bandages that began to soak through with blood upon her violent grasp.

“Adeline,” Maria began, hurriedly releasing her and letting the blade fall to the floor. “You should not be up here. It is far past the acceptable hour to be awake and _dammit_ you’re bleeding.”

“It’s okay, Lady Maria,” Adeline whispered. Her voice had turned weak and quiet that past week from far too frequent trips to the surgical suite. So few Blood Saints held the amount of potential as she did. “Really, it’s okay. They extracted blood just before I came here, so the wound has yet to heal.” She picked nervously at the bandages. “I...I’m sorry, Lady Maria. I know your rule, but I needed to see you.”

Adeline swayed on her feet, and Maria could instantly conclude that the blood extracted from her had been in far too for her body to handle. Her boney fingers trembled and her eyes struggled to stay open. How long has she been there waiting for her? Far too long, she should have gone to sleep the moment they were done to ensure recovery.

Maria got up from the chair and placed her hands on Adeline’s shoulders ( _were they always this fragile?_ ). “You are going to collapse if you continue to stand. Please, sit,” she guided her down to the chair, feeling an unfamiliar emotion as she watched Adeline try to fit herself in the seat that was far too large for her. “Now what was it that you needed from me?”

Adeline stayed silent for a moment, threads of the bandages becoming undone and eyes fixed to the ground. “I...was scared. There had never been a beast to come here since I have been here, but the nights are growing longer.”

She brought her knees up to her chest and finally rose her head to look at Maria as she continued, “Before I came here, I lived with a noble in a higher district as one of his maids. Beasts at the time did not come to that part of Yharnam often, and I slept soundly through the nights. But one night, after I undressed and joined the other maids in our chamber, I was awoken to the sound of the girl who slept below me on the bunk bed beginning to scream. It was a beast. There was a beast in there, and it had clawed its way through the door and jumped on top of her and tore into her flesh.

“I was paralysed by fear. I saw the blood splattering on to the marble floor. I saw the other girls scream and run towards the door to escape, but their efforts were not enough. There was another beast in the manor. Our noble...he had turned into one of those creatures. First, he killed his wife, and then his two sons. Then he came to our room. One by one, I sat paralysed as those beasts ripped away the only family I ever had. After they were all dead, they tried to come for me. I screamed and cried.

“I do not know how I escaped from them. All I know is that one moment, I was on that bunk bed crying. And the next, I was running down the street with a glass shard in my foot as the beasts chased after me. I could have been running for three hours or three minutes before I found a house guarded by incents. Mercifully, they brought me inside. They cleaned me of my wound and allowed me to stay as long as the hunt continued. I never knew true fear until that night. And now...a night does not pass where I do not fear what awaits me outside the door of my chamber. And, after all, you are a hunter. Being next to you means that I would be safe.”

Adeline’s entire body was shaking by the end of her story, tears threatening to shed. She quickly brought her hands up to her face to rub them away, laughing, “I promised myself I would not cry again! Look at how well I kept that promise!”

Maria dropped to her knees in front of her, tenderly taking her hands and holding them as she spoke, “You have certainly had a long day,” she bit her lip and searched for the right words to say. “Stay as long as you wish. I will not be leaving here any time soon.”

“You won’t sleep?” Adeline asked, sniffling.

“No,” she answered, “I do not sleep during the nights.” _She will not let me._ “I have to stay prepared in case of an attack.”

A comfortable silent fell, and it was not until Adeline gripped Maria’s hands that it was broken, “You...You’re injured. There’s blood all over your hand.”

“It is an old wound,“ Maria replied, swiftly pulling her hand away from view. “It happened when one of the blind patients was trying to get away from the doctors. An accident. Think nothing of it.”

A short pause. Then, to Maria’s surprise, Adeline slipped down from the chair and joined her on the floor, legs crossed and white dress becoming wrinkled and dirtied with dust. She slowly unravelled the bloodied bandages, revealing two clean punctures where the needles had been inserted into her wrist. The sharp nails of her thumb and pointer finger dug into the holes and worked to bring the nails together, blood unmercifully streaming down and covering everything that it passed.

“A Saint’s blood can heal more than physical wounds,” Adeline began, lips quivering. “I know that for a fact. When the doctors come for harvesting, they always look at me with such _adoring_ eyes. They kiss the tainted skin and tell me I did well. Sometimes, I can catch them drinking my blood, and the intoxicated glimmer in their eyes motivates me even further to complete their treatment. I could help so many suffering hunters with my blood. Hunters like you, Lady Maria.”

She brought her wrist up to Maria’s lips and smiled with the eyes of the holiest Saint, “Drink.”

Maria did not resist, though in hindsight she should not have allowed herself to give in to the taste of blood. Her lips kissed the wrist, letting the blood roll into her mouth and on to her tongue. Indeed, a Saint’s blood could do far more _healing_ than just physical injuries. The ocean quietened to a distant, forgettable hum — replaced by the sweet, iron taste of Adeline.

It was far too sweet, and it did not take long for Maria’s mind to become overwhelmed by the taste that she lost all elegance and began to use her tongue, eagerly and selfishly licking up all the blood that she could. But she was not the only one being pleasured by the occasion. Opening her eyes, she could faintly see Adeline tightly bringing her legs together, fist resting between her thighs as her breathing unsteadied.

Maria’s arm snaked around the Saint’s waist to pull her against her — the soft hitches of breath like religious hymns. It was difficult to not fall too deep, to let her teeth sink into her wrist and drinking all the blood Adeline had to offer until her skin turned rigid and pale. She wondered if she would even care about her own death, Blood Saints were not ones to shy away from the idea of death if it meant another person’s comfort. She could have died there and been at peace with the choices she made.

But whatever sweet and intoxicating distraction Maria found for herself was quickly overturned by the sudden third presence in the room. Adeline did not notice it — she would have been screaming if she did. It stood behind them, a faint incomprehensible form misty and white. It had no eyes, but Maria knew it to be staring at her.

_Blood drunk, are you?_ it whispered, the soft feminine giggle giving away as to who it was. _You are no better than them. Selfish. Greedy. You hunters are all the same. Indulging yourself on that little maiden will only result in her death. You know that, of course. And you still do it because you_ think _she would be okay with it, yes?_

“Lady Maria?” Adeline asked, brushing her fingers against her cheek when she fell frozen.

_You are not wanted here,_ Maria replied, her voice silver sharp. _This is my domain. My clocktower. You are not allowed here. Leave us at once._

She could taste the ocean on her lips — the bitter saltiness with the slightest hint of death hidden between the waves. An infant was crying, far in the distance yet it felt like it was _right there._

_I will give you a second chance to reassess what you wish to say, girl._

Maria’s body slumped and her eyes fell to the wooden floor. She swallowed back the lump in her throat. _Please...this is the only place I can truly be at peace. For this one time, please give me mercy, Mother Kos._

The silhouette chuckled, what she presumed to be the shoulders shaking in rhythm. And then it disappeared. The taste of the ocean vanished, and only the lingering blood remained on her tongue. It was quiet now — only the pair of heartbeats and hushed breathing able to be heard.

“Maria...,” Adeline touched her face again. “What happened? You...blanked out right there. Was it something I did? Is the blood not good enough? Do I need to —”

“You did nothing wrong, Adeline,” Maria assured her, taking her hands into hers (the slice on her palm entirely gone). “I do not wish to drink too much of the blood and leave you to fall sick. Already you have begun to pale. I do not want to cause you any unnecessary pain.”

A ghost of a smile appeared on Adeline’s face. “You shouldn't worry about hurting me. I am a Blood Saint, after all. And my kind are not ones to be off-put by pain. Nothing you could ever do would hurt me because I know that whatever pain I receive, it is healing you and making you happy.”

Maria fell silent for a long time, replaying her words inside her head. _Nothing you could ever do would hurt me._ She would not think that if she knew of the things she did throughout her life as a hunter, of the baseless murders she committed in the name of the Healing Church. She would have fallen to tears, whimpering and asking _why?_ Maria would not have an answer. She knew why she did it — that bloodthirst so many hunters fall victim to — but it was far too cruel and painful to say aloud. Especially to those rare few that believe in her still.

Adeline shifted against her, head resting against Maria’s chest as she spoke, “When I dream...I dream that I am on a ship. The wind blows through my hair in all directions and leaves it to be a tangled mess. I do not need to open my mouth to taste the salt in the air. I always feel...weightless. Like I could just fall off the side of the ship and just float in the sky. And the ocean. It sounds so beautiful. It calls to me. Even now, I wish to visit the ocean and hear those waves coming from the abyss. Sometimes, I can hear to waves here, singing to me.”

The clockwork machines shifted into motion once more.

_Of course,_ Maria trailed her hand up Adeline’s spine. _This is the punishment._

“Adeline.”

“Yes?” her head perked up.

“From now on, I will allow you and only you to be up here. But on one condition,” Maria ran her fingers through the brunette hair. “No matter what you dream of or what you hear, never bring up the ocean again.”

**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me on [tumblr](https://lyilenor.tumblr.com)


End file.
